Pretend
by PaperCutVictim
Summary: The game of pretend was nothing new to Mia. After all, it was a game she'd been playing regularly for the first nineteen years of her life.


A/N: This idea… well, I dunno, but it struck me one fine day and refused to leave me alone. This is the end product, and while I'm pretty happy with it, it still has an odd feeling at times. Nevertheless, hope you enjoy.

WARNING: Some adult content. You have been warned.

DISCLAIMER: I _wish_ I owned Golden Sun. XD

* * *

Pretend

* * *

_The game of pretend was nothing new to Mia, for she was a deceptively playful girl, and so she was very familiar with games and their rules. But of all the ones she knew, her favorite had always been the game of pretend._

When she'd been but a young girl, growing up in the wintry village of Imil, pretend had been one of her favorite games. She had been a lonely child with few friends, studying her lessons and channeling the psynergy that was her blood and her birthright, but when she had time to herself, she would pretend.

Sometimes, she would pretend that she wasn't a skinny, flat-chested sprite, but a gorgeous princess of an exotic land, loved by her people, and falling in love with a bold, handsome knight. He would be entranced by her beauty, and ask for her hand in marriage, promising that he would be only hers for all time.

At times, during her studies, she pretended she was intrigued with her books, instead of daydreaming of love and adventure, as many young girls tended to do.

Whenever she joined in on the snowball fights that broke out among the village children, Mia would pretend that she was a mythical snow queen, beautiful and yet terrible to behold. The dripping, ragged spheres in her tiny hands were the blasts of burning frost that she used to smite those who displeased her. Her fantasy was a bit harder to keep in this situation, as she doubted that snow queens burst into giggles as they fought other children with snowballs.

Her skill at pretending grew with age, and she learned quickly that retreating into a fantasy was often far less painful than facing reality.

When her mother fell ill with a mysterious disease, Mia pretended that her mother's worsening coughs were only her body throwing out the bad air in her, and that she would be ok. She also pretended that she didn't see the sad smiles her parents sent her way as she cheerfully left the room, all sweetness and smiles and unshakable confidence.

Mia was not stupid; she was a smart little girl. She knew, deep down in a dark corner of her young heart, that her mother was dying, even if she did not yet understand death. But still she pretended, and sometimes, her family joined her. Even Alex, who's quietly growing frustration and despair she pretended to not see, joined in these games of pretend. She enjoyed it when they did.

Pretending was not solely a game that she played and kept for herself. Mia was never a selfish child, and her selflessness was a virtue that would follow her as she grew from a tiny bud into the full bloom of womanhood.

She knew games like pretend were always more fun when played together with others.

Her mother inevitably died, as the dark corner of her heart had always known she would, and she was buried underneath the snow-covered earth on a quiet autumn morning. The dutiful young Mia always visited her dear mother, however, and her father and brother would join her on the visits.

If she pretended hard enough, little Mia could see her mother sitting quietly on her gravestone, smiling serenely as her darling young daughter, rambled happily about whatever her childish mind could think of. It was never the wind that tousled her hair of aquamarine; her mother was lovingly running her fingers through Mia's hair, bringing an innocent smile of happiness to her small mouth. Whenever the wind blew away the flowers she dutifully brought every visit, she pretended that the god of the wind had lifted them to the heavens, into her mother's hands.

Her father smiled at his daughter, proud of her strength, proud of her love, proud of her. He loved her with the whole of his being, and he vowed to protect her young heart in anyway he could. Only one way in the myriad of methods he fulfilled this promise was to never let her see the tears he wept for his deceased wife. It was hard, seeing how with every passing day, he saw more and more of her in his daughter. It became harder when it was obvious that he too would follow his love into the heavens, his body slowly, reluctantly succumbing to the same disease that had claimed her, leaving his children without a parent, a guide, a protector.

Alex, serious Alex who'd had little sense of humor and scorned the other neighborhood children, Alex who held an increasingly obvious contempt for the Mercury clan and their outmoded decrees, entertained his little sister and her games of pretend. He too would smile and speak with their mother, and later their father, though he was scolded many times by Mia as he faced the wrong direction. He would apologize for his mistake, and muss her hair lovingly, earning him a scowl from the blue-haired sprite that was his sister.

The hurt of Alex's wordless departure from Imil left poor Mia, then a girl barely into her teens, heartbroken and alone, left to face the turbulence of adolescence on her own. He had left nothing, no notes, no last words, only his cleanly made bed that still smelled of him.

She cried, of course, but her love for him endured nevertheless. She would remember his wayward heart in her prayers, knowing that he loved her too dearly to leave her alone forever, and she trusted in her older brother's love. At night, she would pretend again. At night, she dreamed that Alex had gone on an adventure, that he was exploring the continent and the many exotic lands beyond the great ocean. He would come back and regale her with tales of the peoples he'd seen, the lands he'd visited, and the many friends he'd made.

During the day, when the house felt too big and too lonely, Mia would pretend that he had never left her side to begin with, that if she opened the door to his empty bedroom, he'd be in there, lounging on his bed, nose in a book she had never seen before. He would look up, and scowl at her intrusion into his personal space, demanding to know what she wanted. Her eyes would well up with tears, and she would fling herself into his surprised arms. Alex would be annoyed, of course, but he would still wrap his arms around her with the tenderness that all older brothers knew and pet her hair. After her tears stopped, he would call her a silly brat, just as he always did when she did something to annoy him, and kiss her forehead.

Above all, she would pretend that she did not still cry during the lonely nights when the pangs of solitude struck her.

Sometimes, she wished that she could retreat into her pretend world and stay there forever, safe in the lap of her father as he held her lovingly, safe in the arms of her brother as he'd roll his eyes at her playful antics, safe in the hands of her mother as she lovingly brushed her blue strands, her daughter giggling with childish glee.

Safe from the cruelty of harsh reality.

Other times, Mia just grew sick of pretending. As she grew older, she threw herself more and more into her work as a healer and guardian of the Mercury Lighthouse. Pretend no longer had a place in her new world of sickness and health, life and death. She still possessed her innocence, but she was not innocent enough to believe her fantasies would come true. Her work was her salvation now; she was too old for such silly games.

* * *

Her life changed forever when three teenaged boys dragged themselves into Imil, weary, wounded, but determined. Her sapphire eyes were instantly drawn to the young man with blond, spiky hair, the one with such a serious, but honest, countenance. Her eyes continued to be drawn to him as he demonstrated his courage, his strength, and his kindness. Though the cold stab of betrayal wounded her deeply as she realized Alex's role in this madness, it was dulled by this young man's comforting words and gentle smile. 

"Isaac," he had called himself.

"Hello Isaac, my name is Mia," she had replied politely, formally.

"Nice to meet you," he'd answered, beaming.

His response had drawn a smile from her lips, a genuine smile that she had not shown for many years, a smile that had not required her to pretend.

She joined his party, and soon his quest became her quest. But in the months that passed, she thought less and less of their mission, and more and more about the young knight. He wore no shining armor, for he needed none. His courage and strength offered all the armor he needed, his selflessness and kindness supplying all the shine that armor may need. Her eyes strayed to him more often, curious about him, wondering why he was how he was, wondering what kind of life he had led, and above all, wondering why he couldn't stop intruding on her thoughts.

In the sad, lonely years she had faced, thoughts of love and romance had been sealed away, one by one. They leaked out once again as Isaac's smiles became more ingrained into her consciousness. And her childish games of pretend returned with them.

Of course her hand never lingered longer than it should on his forehead when she checked his temperature; she was just making sure she had felt it correctly.

Of course she wasn't watching him sleep when she was supposed to be keeping night watch; who on Weyard did they take her for?!

"Thank you for saving me, Isaac…" What? No, of course she wasn't blushing! It was just the heat; silly her for not bringing a lighter dress to wear instead of those heavy ones from Imil.

Of course, she was not allowed to forget that games like pretend were always more fun when played with others.

She would pretend Ivan and Garet weren't exchanging knowing glances and wicked snickers as she walked closer to Isaac, enjoying his nearness as he smiled down at her, enjoying the blushes and the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach. The other two boys, in turn, would pretend they didn't see her paying extra attention to Isaac when he was wounded.

"Don't move, Isaac!" she would scold worriedly. "You're going to open your wounds again!"

"It's just a few scratches, Mia…" he'd reply, rubbing the back of his head and grinning lopsidedly.

The other two would snicker again, and Mia would pretend she didn't hear them, even though a fierce blush would heat her cheeks.

Mia discovered that she was even better at pretending than she had ever given herself credit for, but the game was getting harder and harder. She tried her best to pretend that her crush on Isaac was not getting worse, or that she was starting to desire him in ways that a woman would desire a man.

It was taking more effort to pretend that he could not melt her with a single touch, a single worried glance, a single winning smile.

And it was becoming more and more difficult to not think about pressing her lips onto his in a searing, passionate kiss.

She found temporary relief from her increasingly perverted fantasies on quiet nights in a room of her own, her face flushed with embarrassment as her fingers shakily found their way between her trembling thighs. Her lips would softly moan Isaac's name as she indulged herself in a pretend world where the object of her fantasies made passionate love to her through the night.

The other participants greatly enjoyed the intensifying nature of the game, no matter that their enjoyment of this wonderful diversion often came at her expense. Mia would often find herself the target of sly grins and winks after those nights, causing her whole body to redden as Isaac would confusedly rub the back of his head, wondering what had gotten into his friends. She vehemently pretended that she didn't hear Ivan's offhanded comments about Isaac within earshot of her, and she pretended with equal forcefulness that it really was an accident whenever Garet "tripped" and pushed Isaac into, or better yet, on top of, her.

And no, she was not blushing madly, why did they ask?

Mia was quite certain they would agree that pretend was indeed a fun game.

The nature of the game changed one night, when the conversation had somehow shifted to the girl in Felix's party. His sister, Jenna.

Isaac had flinched slightly at the mention of that name, his face reddening at the mention of that girl. Mia was an observant girl, and that night, she cursed her eyes for catching that blush of his. She did not sleep that night, she instead fell onto her bed, silent except for her soft breathing, staring sightlessly into the moonlit room and praying that she had not _really_ seen that flicker of love in his beautiful eyes at the mention of Jenna's name.

She knew she had. And when the two parties had met at last, she bore silent witness to the reunion of old friends, the icy dagger of jealousy pushing into her heart with an agonizing slowness.

There she was.

Jenna.

* * *

Despite her feelings, despite how long she had loved her young knight, she could not bring herself to hate this pretty girl, her chocolate eyes glistening with joyful tears at seeing her two dearest friends. She could not bring herself to pretend to hate her, even as she wrapped her arms around Isaac's neck, sobbing into his shoulder. 

She did wish that it could be her in his arms, however. Mia vaguely thought of crying herself. Maybe Isaac would put his arms around _her_ tenderly, rub _her_ back soothingly until she stopped, and comfort _her_, not Jenna, who she could see he was smitten with.

The nature of the game had changed again. Two new participants were reluctantly added, the young blonde girl from Lalivero, Sheba, and the Lemurian mariner Piers. It had stopped being fun, but the players were not allowed to withdraw. Not anymore.

Mia pretended she didn't feel concerned eyes on her when she walked to her room dejectedly, or when she faked a smile of surprising realism as she passed them. She pretended that she held to her silent resolve to be happy for Isaac if (when, she corrected herself) he and Jenna professed their love for each other. It was hard, and Mia had never been one to step up to a challenge, but she knew the game had changed. She wasn't allowed to back out of this. And so, with no choice left, she steeled herself for a challenge that she didn't even want to take up.

The days dragged by, heavy with awkward tension. Mia pretended that everything was normal, and for her sake, the players did as well. Isaac would look after her with worried eyes, but she would smile, sweet and innocent as always, and tell him she was fine. In an effort to fight the awkwardness, she befriended Jenna, a silent announcement to all that could understand that she was perfectly fine, even finding herself feeling a genuine affection for the girl. The two forged a strong friendship, and Mia was proud of how well she could pretend that this girl's effect on Isaac didn't bother her, didn't tear her bleeding heart to pieces, and most certainly didn't reduce her to silent tears when she was alone, curled up into a ball on her bed.

The game ended, shortly after their quest had with the return to Vale, when Isaac had seen Jenna and Garet kissing each other in secret so as not to be caught by her overprotective brother. His heart was broken, though he was inwardly happy for them.

He confided in Mia that he had somehow always known that Jenna would choose Garet over him. She smiled and patted his hand comfortingly, understanding all too well what kind of heartbreak he was going through. After all, she herself had endured it not long ago. Her pain still lingered as she saw the embers of his love for Jenna smolder in his eyes whenever he saw her, or heard her name, but Mia did nothing, pretending that it did not bother her. She had to, because she was his friend, and she would not be being a good friend if she tried to throw herself at him while his wounded heart was healing. Mia had always prided herself on being a good girl, and good girls did not do that.

So she smiled, pretending that the embers weren't scorching her soul.

On lonely nights, she wondered if she would ever stop pretending. She felt that she'd been pretending her whole life, and that her life really was nothing more than an extended game of pretend. It saddened her. On some of those nights, she would wallow in her self-misery, feeling no drive or ability to pull herself out of it until the morning rose.

She had forgotten that games like pretend were always more fun when played with others.

* * *

Mia didn't know why this new game began, but a quiet talk between two friends in her room had ended up with Isaac landing a soul-searing kiss on her lips. Her eyes had widened in shock, but as he continued, she gave in, playing this new game with him, though she did not understand the rules. Hot, passionate kisses shortly led to their clothes being discarded on the floor. She wasn't sure which of them had led the other to the bed, but it wasn't long before their bodies were molded into one, silent save for their heated breathing and soft moans of pleasure. She whimpered as he made love to her, his touch far exceeding anything in her wildest fantasies, and she chanted his name as he touched her in ways no man had ever touched her in before. 

But, when he reached his peak, the name that fell from his lips was not hers.

It was then that she understood that a new game had begun. The new knowledge did not detract from her enjoyment of their play at all. No, she was too lost in the new pleasures she'd discovered with him.

As she held him, laying her head on his bare, sweat-oiled chest, Mia sensed the guilt he felt, and she assured him it was alright.

"But I took advantage of you-"

"No, you didn't," she told him, offering a smile, all sweetness and innocence. "I wanted this too."

They silently laid out the rules of this new game between them: Isaac would pretend she was the woman he really loved, and Mia would pretend that he loved only her.

Mia was a practical woman, and she knew this was the closest she could ever come to having him for herself.

Mia was not stupid; she was a smart young woman. She knew, deep down in a dark corner of her wounded heart, that this was all she could hope for and that she should take what small comfort he was offering.

Mia was never a selfish young woman. If it meant having at least some kind of closeness with Isaac, she was willing to take what little she could get. Even if he would never be hers alone.

And so she pretended, and he pretended with her. He was very good at pretending, she saw. He pretended to love her, and she pretended with him, innocently pretending that she didn't know where his heart really lay and that he belonged solely to her.

Isaac held her hand sometimes, and in return, Mia would sometimes lay her head on his shoulder.

Mia kissed him sometimes, and in return, Isaac would comb his fingers through her hair as he returned the kiss.

She was his little play toy, and she wouldn't have had it any other way.

The game was more exclusive this time, with only spectators watching curiously as they played together. She felt more comfortable, more able to indulge herself in this game. It was fun again, and for a pretend lover, he was very good.

Ever the gentleman, Isaac took it upon himself to ensure that she always enjoyed their game, and she responded by taking it upon herself to continue giving him her best performances. He always took good care of his toy, always made her feel appreciated, always let her know how happy he was that she was his toy, and no one else's.

Words seldom passed between them, for words were unnecessary.

He took her to bed frequently, and she never once resisted, always happy to be wanted, and admiring how skillfully he played with his willing toy. It didn't bother her that he was always pretending that she was the auburn-haired woman he could never have. After all, she was always pretending that she was receiving the love he never felt for her. It was part of the nature of their game, and she was only too happy to play by the rules, the rules of this new, unfamiliar way to play pretend. He made it easy on her. He even bothered to say her own name in their passionate entanglements, not Jenna's, a fact that warmed her heart.

Through all his pretending, he made the young woman feel loved, and feeling loved made her happy.

If she pretended hard enough, she could imagine that spark of love in his ocean-blue eyes was for her, returning the love she had silently, shyly given him for so long.

As the weeks and months went by, their game continued, but the intensity steadily increased, and with it came the knowledge that this could not go on forever. The game stopped being fun for her. As his pretending grew more realistic, Mia's deteriorated. He was more passionate with his toy now, and she could see it in every action he performed, every kiss, every touch, every lingering gaze. And the actions began to stir something in her, resurrecting the old feelings she had tried to bury in accordance with their rules. True, they had always been there, but now it was worse than before. A dark corner of her mending heart wanted more, wanted him all to herself. She was slowly beginning to break the silent rule, that she would not fall desperately in love with him again.

Mia was never a selfish young woman. Yet, she did indeed want more. And as his gazes became more loving, his touches more affectionate, she began to tear herself between either playing by the rules or damning them.

But…

Mia was a practical woman. She knew this was the closest she could ever come to having him for herself. Didn't she? She did not deny that she still hungered for all of his love, craving it like her body craved his.

Mia was not stupid; she was a smart young woman. But smart young women, she quickly found, were not immune to stupid actions.

The game became increasingly strained as she began distancing herself from him, rarely speaking with him, and trying not to be alone with him, with this man who had such a frightening effect on her resolve. She still allowed him to sleep with her, for she could not deny that his touch gave her pleasure, but even these encounters became less and less frequent.

Their last one had ended with her almost inaudibly whispering, "Please stop."

And being the gentleman that he was, he had respected her wishes.

She was tired of pretending. She was sick of playing this game, this stupid game where he began making her _feel_ these horrible emotions for him again, stronger than ever. Mia had thought the pretend love was enough to sate her desire for contact and physical pleasure from him, but all it had done was make her acutely aware of her need to feel _real_ love from him, aware of how real her own was, while his was the deflected remnants of a love that could not be.

Mia was sick of being his toy, wanting to be his lover instead, and her stomach sank whenever she realized that this could not be either. She would was forced to make a choice. She could either continue being his toy, letting her newly healed heart slowly break again, or she could withdraw from the game.

Mia had never been one to step up to a challenge, but she recognized this as a challenge she had to take, for the sake of her sanity

* * *

As dusk hesitantly bowed to the rising moon, she softly implored Isaac to meet her on the bridge later that night. Meeting her torn gaze, he had hesitated for a faint second but nevertheless nodded his agreement. 

The moon was full, and it bathed the darkened village in a pale light, perfectly complementing the crisp autumn air as she silently dragged herself to the bridge. Her face was set in a stony mask, devoid of emotion, her sapphire eyes pouring out enough emotion for her entire body. Mia's heart sank into her stomach as she saw Isaac waiting for her, looking out over the bridge at the broken reflection of the moon in the murky waters. His gaze met hers as he sensed her approach. He did not smile, but she felt his aura welcoming her into his presence.

He always did take good care of his toy, making her feel appreciated. Loved.

Isaac's shoulders turned to face her, and he asked softly, "Wanna tell me what this is about, Mia?"

She flinched involuntarily under his words, but his eyes - those damnable, lovable eyes that captivated her so easily - soothed her.

Yes. He always did take good care of his toy, she thought with uncharacteristic bitterness. He always knew how to make her feel appreciated.

"I'm… I'm tired of playing this game, Isaac," she intoned, her voice dull, lifeless.

His head tilted slightly, silently imploring her to continue.

She looked away from him, looking at the waters, because anything was easier than meeting his eyes at this moment. Continuing in her mechanical voice, she told him, "I can't do this anymore. I'm tired of pretending. I… I don't… I don't want to be with you like this."

A tear welled up in her left eye, fell. The barricade she had erected around her fragile, tattered emotions cracked as the tear met the bridge, spattering.

"I just can't deal with you pretending I'm Jenna anymore. I thought I could at first but… but I started wanting more… And I can't have more… I-" A hiccup interrupted her, jarring another tear that had formed in her right eye. "I don't… I can't do this…"

"Is that what this is about?" She heard what seemed to be a stunned disbelief in his voice. Mia heard him rubbing the back of his head, felt his quizzical gaze. It panged her heart at how well she knew his mannerisms now.

She answered him with silence, not trusting herself with words, and still refusing to meet his stare.

"Mia… I…" A short near-laugh of an unidentifiable emotion escaped him. "I've been over Jenna for a long time now."

Mia raised her head slightly, her bangs hiding her eyes. She still did not respond.

A strangled laugh made its way out of his lips as he continued, "I… Well, I mean… Yeah, this whole thing started off as a mistake, but…" He stopped for a moment, swallowing. "Well, once I got over Jenna, I just…"

He paused to consider what he wanted to say. Choosing to settle for the truth, he finished candidly, "I started looking at you, and I… I fell in love with you again, Mia."

No… It couldn't be true… There was no way it was true, she had been by his side for almost two years now, there was no way that…

Could there…? A faint candle of hope lighted itself inside of a dark corner of Mia's heart.

"I…" His expression grimaced in nervousness as he tried to find the words he wanted to say. "You were never a toy to me, Mia. And I didn't think you'd believe me if I told you, so I…"

Mia began to shake her head as her carefully built defenses collapsed. _'Stop…'_

"Well, I wasn't sure what to do, I just… I just thought I'd try by showing you."

The tears… She couldn't stop them anymore… _'Stop…'_

"I wanted to let you know that I did want you, Mia."

'_Please…'_

"And Mia… I… I lo-"

"_STOP!_" she screamed.

Isaac obeyed, stunned into silence. He watched her, hurt and confused, as she covered her face with her hands, sobs wracking her shoulders. He desperately wanted to reach out to her and comfort her, but feared that she would react violently, or that he would only make things worse.

"Please…" she sobbed miserably, her words barely intelligible from all the shaking in her voice. "Don't… Don't say that… Don't… Don't play with me anymore, Isaac… My heart…" Tears choked her voice again as she sniffled, wiping her eyes fruitlessly. "My heart… can't take it anymore…"

Unseen to her, he had smiled, a warm, loving smile tinged with sadness and guilt as he watched her. Even in tears, she was beautiful, more precious to him than all the gold and all the power in the world.

Isaac reached out to her and, after some initial resistance, pulled her into his gentle embrace, burying his face into her hair and inhaling her warmth, her sweetness. He caressed her, lightly untying the white ribbon that held up her hair and ran his fingers fondly through the silky aquamarine tresses.

This wasn't exactly how he'd wanted to confess his love for her, but he supposed this was his punishment. Truth be told, he'd cherished her for a long while too. But he'd ignored his feelings for the young Mercury Adept in favor of his older, more familiar feelings for Jenna, his eyes only on her even as his heart longed to be with Mia, knowing the affections for the innocent Mercury Adept were stronger.

Isaac had always thought in the back of his mind that Mia would have been a good match for him. Those thoughts had gone ignored, not to be resurrected until Jenna had chosen Garet over him.

Whether or not he had realized his love for Mia at the time, it was still a mistake to have forced himself on her in the way that he did. It had only been worse when he'd whispered Jenna's name instead of hers. The latter had probably been his greater mistake, as he hadn't doubted how Mia would take it, but he did not become painfully aware of the magnitude of that error until he'd realized how deep her feelings for him ran. The emotional torture he must have subjected her to stabbed a guilty dagger into his heart. He had naively thought that his demonstration of love would have brought her to the realization that he hadn't meant his stupid slip of the tongue, that he loved only her.

Isaac petted her hair gently, soothing her as she continued to cry into his shoulder.

"Don't… Don't touch me like this… Not if you don't mean it…" she begged. Her voice was choked by tears and a despairing kind of hope, praying he wouldn't take away the candle that had been lit inside of her.

Isaac knew he had no intentions of extinguishing it.

"And what if I do?" he asked playfully, adding a teasing lilt in his voice.

He was tired of their games of pretend as well, and he hadn't been so blind as to not see what it was doing to her. She'd become more animated, so filled with life during the first few weeks of their arrangement, becoming more and more the girl that he had fallen for. As the days went by, he discovered that he wanted increasingly more from her, more than just the superficial kisses of pretend lovers, more than just sex. He wanted her entire being, and he wanted her to see that she already had his, if she would only see. Then he had foolishly pretended that she really was returning his feelings, that she knew his heart as well as he did, and that she understood the caresses, the kisses, the nights of passion were just his way of professing his love without words.

Isaac had always cursed his clumsiness with words, the clumsiness which had driven him to the course he'd taken, but resolved that he would correct that error.

As for Mia, the hope in her chest had begun to swell, and she allowed herself, for the first time in years, to hope, to truly hope. She had loved him for two years, and it had been a painful time for her. Her heart had gone through enough in her younger days that it would have been shattered beyond repair if he took this away from her now.

'_Can he… really love me?'_

His fingers cupped her chin and lifted it up to force her eyes to meet his. She saw his warmth, his sincerity, his… his love. Isaac's lips caressed her forehead, her cheeks, and he tenderly kissed away the tears that insistently rolled down her face. Those tears that escaped his lips met with his hand as he gently stroked her cheek.

But still she doubted. It was just too good to be true. In a quavering voice, she choked out, "Do you know…" A soft hiccup interrupted her. "Do you know… who you're touching? Do you?"

His eyes took on a puzzled look. His hand stopped and his smile fell as he silently urged her to continue.

'_Don't touch me…'_

"Don't lie to me…" Her voice hitched, and she was a minute composing herself before she trusted her voice enough to continue, "I can't take it if you lie to me… I… I love you… but it's been so hard loving you…"

'_Don't _ever_ touch me…'_

"All this time… I thought you'd thought of no one but Jenna… And-" Her voice cracked for a moment, but she fought to keep her composure.

'_Please… don't touch me…'_

"I want to trust you… I want to trust your feelings… But-" Against her will, she sniffled and almost broke down into tears again. She lowered her head. It was too hard to look at him right now, now that he had her fragile heart in the palm of his hand. "Do you…"

'_Not if you don't mean it…'_

"Do you really know who you're touching?"

She began to tremble, partly out of fear, partly because of the thumb that he affectionately ran over her face. Her eyes hesitantly lifted, and he saw all of her emotions laid bare in her sapphire orbs.

Hope.

Fear.

Love.

His smile lifted again. "I'm touching the most beautiful girl I've ever met in my life… I'm touching the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with… Who else could it be but you, Mia?"

The candle had met with the flame of love she'd always held, and the tears fell, but this time, she felt lighter, happier, a weight lifted off of her heart that let it beat freely again, filled with life, filled with love. And above her, Isaac's smile widened as he saw the vitality return to his beloved's eyes, the life that had attracted him to her in the first place.

It occurred to him, not for the first time, that she was much like the flowers that bravely bloomed on the frozen mountainsides. She was delicate and beautiful, but she was also a survivor. She had survived on her own for all this time, but now he was here, and he wanted to protect his delicate flower. Their trials, against the demons lurking in her psyche, and against whatever else the world unleashed on them, would not be easy, but they would not matter to him, so long as she was by his side. He also wanted her to play a new game with him, a game for lovers, a game that they did not understand, but would.

Isaac wanted to let her know that they would have all the time in the world.

_The game of pretend was nothing new to Mia, for she was a deceptively playful woman, and so she was very familiar with games and their rules. But of all the ones she knew, her favorite had always been the game of pretend. After all, it was a game she'd been playing regularly for the first nineteen years of her life._

She rested her head on his chest and he held her closer, her soft curves molding perfectly with his hard body, just like it always did. Like pieces of a puzzle, he thought to himself with a smile, kissing her hair and stealing another breath of her sweet, intoxicating scent.

_But after so many years of playing that game alone, a young man had intruded on her life and decided to play the game with her. He played it with her for a while, and he was very good, she pretending she did not love him, he pretending his old feelings for another girl that was not for him were stronger than the newfound ones she had ignited in his heart._

It warmed his heart to feel her steadily relaxing into his embrace. He couldn't find words to describe the sheer feeling of love that tingled through his entire body, and from the contented, almost dreamy, sigh he heard from his lover, he could tell that she felt the same.

_And so he taught her a new game, one whose rules she did not understand, and even he did not fully grasp its rules either, but he was willing to learn with her. He would do anything as long as she was by his side._

"Don't ever touch me… Not unless you mean it," Mia whispered, looking up into his eyes. She felt safe in his arms, and his gaze assured her that he would protect her. It made her heart flutter, and she resolved that she would do whatever she could in return for him, for the one she loved, the one she would always love.

_It frightened her, and after so much time alone, she wasn't sure if she could really do it, but he had assured her that it was alright. And so she hesitantly followed his lead on that moonlit night, following his gentle, patient smile as he encouraged her to come with him, to play with him._

Isaac held her tighter. "Don't worry, my love," he said, pressing his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. "I'll always mean it."

_Mia found that she had never been happier._

* * *

A/N: Egads, 11 pages! I was originally gonna stop it at around the 2/3 mark, but the story kept going. I'm sorry if I made Mia seem too much of a crybaby, cuz that wasn't my intention, but that was how it ended up. Their relationship seemed simple enough when initially brainstorming it, but it ended up more complex than I had originally intended... 

Hope you enjoyed, and please review, if you're going to flame, make it a constructive one. :D


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